


then the stars don't even matter

by jaythenerdkid



Category: The Mindy Project
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2014-04-23
Packaged: 2018-01-20 12:57:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1511393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaythenerdkid/pseuds/jaythenerdkid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>If you're not even here, then I don't wanna be either.</i> NYC has lost its spark and she hates that he's the reason why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	then the stars don't even matter

**Author's Note:**

> There's a really beautiful Ellie Goulding cover of "Black and Gold" that I listen to whenever I miss my partner. I was listening to it, and this happened. (I guess my boy is a bit of a Danny? Less Italian, more bearded, just as surly. XD) I make no apology for any feels brought on by this little ficlet. Please comment and let me know what you think! TMP is the first fandom for which I've actually written any fic in a few years now, so I'm sure I'm a little rusty.

_She wakes up just a little before he does, squinting and raising one hand to shield her eyes from the pallid dawn light filtering through the shutters. She can feel the heat radiating from him - he runs so hot, even in his sleep, that she teasingly thanks him for helping her save on her heating bill - as he sleeps next to her, his breathing slow and measured. She turns until she's resting on one elbow, dawn light at her back, and takes in the sight of him - brow unwrinkled, mouth slightly open, breath whistling softly between his teeth. He looks so peaceful like this, so unlike his tense, surly workaday self._

_He's so perfect, so very perfect, and he's_ hers. _She feels a warmth spread through her body, right down to the tips of her toes. Smiling, she leans over to nibble gently at his bottom lip._

_"Min, go back to sleep," he murmurs against her mouth, though one arm snakes around her waist, pulling her in a little closer. "It's Saturday, can't a man rest a little?"_

_But when she pulls away, his eyes have flickered half-open, still fogged with the last vestiges of sleep, and he's smiling drowsily at her. She leans in to kiss him again, and for the next few minutes the room is quiet but for her sighs against his lips, the rustling of sheets as he pulls her closer, a little giggle escaping her as he runs a hand under her t-shirt and up against her ribs._

_He's perfect. This is perfect. She wants this forever._

The alarm goes off, and she wakes up alone, the last fragments of her dream biting and pricking at her, bitter reminders of a future she will never have.

She doesn't cry - not any more, not after all this time - but when she sinks back into her pillows, she wishes she could. It would be better than this.

It would be better than feeling nothing.

* * *

 

_"What are you listening to?" he asks her as he guides her into the subway car, one hand resting against the small of her back. She's humming - very tunefully, she might add, she was a soprano in her high school choir - as the train departs the station."Is it that new Lady Googoo album?"_

_She giggles and takes out one earbud. "Okay, firstly,_ old man _," she says, mock-reproachfully, "it's Gaga, not Googoo, and I know you know that because I caught you singing 'Bad Romance' in the shower last week -"_

_"- what? It's a catchy song!"_

_"And secondly," she says a little louder, ignoring his interjection, "if you_ must _know, I'm listening to ***Flawless, featuring Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, who I've decided is kind of like my new Beyonce, but like, a smart version with cooler scarves. Did you know they're making one of her books into a movie starring Chiwetel Ejiofor? He is_ so _dreamy, he made me cry in 12 Years a Slave. I mean, I had to watch it with Gwen because I can't stand seeing violent movies alone, but -" she continues chattering happily as Danny guides them both to an unoccupied seat, bopping her head absent-mindedly to the music. When she looks over at Danny, he's smiling that lopsided grin of his, the one he reserves only for her._

_"What?" she asks, taking out her other earbud._

_He shakes his head. "It's nothing," he says, scooting over on the seat until their thighs are pressed together. He places a hand over hers, and if she makes a little contented sigh like a cat purring as she rests her head against his shoulder, he pretends not to notice._

_The train comes to a sudden stop, jostling the passengers -_

\- and she quickly extricates herself from the stranger next to her, apologising as she scoops her handbag out of his lap. He looks kinda grumpy, so she's quick to exit the subway car and go on her way.

When she gets to the top of the stairs, she realises that it's raining, and that she left her umbrella on the subway.

Perfect.

* * *

 

She's sorting through the file for her next patient, looking for the most recent set of vitals, when there's a tentative rap at her door.

_"Min?" he asks, body rigid with nervous tension. "I, uh, I was wondering if you have time to look at this patient's file for me? I, uh, there's something about, well, her blood pressure, you know - "_

_He's speaking a little too loudly and she can see the sweat beading on his brow from her desk. He is still_ so  _bad at this._

_"I would be happy to offer my considered professional opinion, Doctor Castellano," she says, smiling brightly. "Would you mind getting the door?"_

_"The door? Oh - oh, yeah, the door, let me just get that, I'll just - yeah, I'll get the door." She has to grin at how flustered these clandestine encounters make him. It's cute, in a schoolboy kind of way, if the schoolboy in question was a guy with boring but somehow really great taste in button-downs. (Tom Ford? Who knew?)_

_His nervousness disappears as the door clicks shut and the lock turns, and suddenly he's dropping the file on the floor and his eyes are dark with desire as he stalks towards her, grabbing her roughly out of her seat. She won't admit it in a million years because she still hates it when he's right, but she loves it when he's rough with her, when she can tell that just the sight of her is making him lose control of that calm facade of his. She moans into his mouth as he slides his tongue between her lips, one of his hands fisting her hair and the other grabbing her ass, pulling her closer. He tastes of peppermint and the muffin he had at lunch and just a tiny bit of salty sweat. She files this sensation away with all the others, to be enjoyed later, but soon every thought process is obliterated as he positions her on the edge of her desk, pushing into her so she can feel how hard he is beneath his jeans._

_"Danny," she moans softly, and he looks up from where he's kissing the pulse point at her neck with the wickedest little smirk on his face and suddenly she doesn't care if the entire damn office hears her scream. She loses herself in him, kissing down his jaw, down his neck, unbuttoning his shirt so she can taste his skin and run her hands down his chest as he hikes her skirt up a little more, stroking gently over the growing patch of dampness spreading across her panties. He pushes them aside so he can slip a finger into her and she knows she should stop him but instead she's undoing his belt and unzipping his jeans and oh fuck, he's so hard and she wants him right now and -_

_There's a knock on the door and they jump apart, panting, Danny rearranging his clothes in a rush, Mindy yanking the hem of her dress back down, and for the love of every single God in the Hindu canon, there had better be a goddamn fire or something or she is going to kill whoever interrupted them._

_"Doctor Lahiri?" comes a voice from outside the door - Morgan's. Danny is picking up the file he dropped and raking his hands through his hair, now even sweatier than usual, his face flushed red, and despite her annoyance, Mindy still takes a moment to feel good about the fact that_ she _did that to him. He's hers and she can do that to him and it's so, so much more amazing than she had imagined -_

"Doctor Lahiri?" Morgan calls from outside, yanking her back into reality. "Doctor Lahiri, Ms Benson is here, are you ready for her?"

"Sure, send her in," Mindy replies, her voice cracking. Her mouth is dry, as though she hasn't had anything to drink in days, even though there's a bottle of that water Jennifer Aniston is selling on her desk. It's not enough.

It'll never be enough.

* * *

 

She waits until everyone's gone for the day before she takes the elevator down. For all their talk about remaining friends, it's just...easier avoiding him. When he's not around, she can pretend she's not missing him. She can pretend she's still a young(ish) doctor in the most magical city on Earth, living life to the fullest and waiting for her prince to come and sweep her off her feet. She can pretend that he didn't already sweep her off her feet in the back of an aeroplane, make her deliriously happy and then leave her like it had never meant anything to him at all.

She absent-mindedly flicks through songs on her iPod on the ride down until one catches her attention - 

_Cuz if you're not really here, then the stars don't even matter,_

_Now I'm filled to the top with fear that it's all just a bunch of matter,_

She hits stop and shoves the wretched thing into her handbag and takes the rest of the elevator ride down in silence, grateful that she's alone so that nobody can see her resolutely refusing to cry.

* * *

Her apartment is cold, and she goes to the window to shut it. (Time was he warmed her enough she didn't notice. Time was this place was never cold. Time was.) The view is beautiful - a kaleidoscope of light and movement, all the buzz and activity of the city that never sleeps. But tonight, it all looks dull to her. Whatever magic there used to be is gone.

That should bother her more than it does.

She shuts the window, draws the shutters and makes her way to bed, wishing futilely for just one night of dreamless sleep. It would be easier to face the new day, she thinks, if she wasn't tormented by what she wouldn't be waking up to find.

But his face is the last thing she imagines before her eyes drift shut, and she knows that even that wish will not be granted.

A tear leaks out beneath her lashes and soaks into the pillow. She dreams that he's there to wipe them away.

_Cuz if you're not really here, then I don't wanna be either -_

_I wanna be next to you, black and gold, black and gold, black and gold_

**Author's Note:**

> Recommended listening, if you want to nurse your Dandy feels over a slab or two of chocolate:
> 
> Black and Gold - Ellie Goulding (Sam Sparro cover)  
> Vienna - The Fray  
> Ain't No Sunshine - Lighthouse Family  
> Somewhere Only We Know - Keane  
> Discovering the Waterfront - Silverstein  
> Sweetest Goodbye - Maroon 5  
> Don't Speak - No Doubt


End file.
